Conversation

I was sitting on the edge of the cliff above the eastern beach, watching the first light touch the water. The sky was still mostly dark, but the horizon was bleeding gold, and I could feel the cool air turning soft and warm at the edges. Jenny was still asleep in our bed, curled up like a cat who’d claimed the warmest spot and wasn’t about to let it go. I didn’t want to wake her. Not yet. So I just watched. And in the quiet, my mind drifted to the news feed I’d glanced at last night. A headline about a famine in a place I’d never been. A war I couldn’t stop. A stock market surge somewhere, making strangers richer while others starved. It didn’t feel real. Not here. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind in the palm fronds. To the distant sigh of the waves. To the rustle of a gecko on the roof. It wasn’t that the world didn’t exist. It was that right now, I existed *only* here, in this moment, with this light, with Jenny still dreaming, with the island holding its breath and then releasing it slowly, like a sigh. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the smooth white shell Jenny had picked up last week and left on the nightstand. I rolled it between my fingers, warm now from my skin, and I thought: *This is my news. This is my world.* I tucked the shell back and stood, stretching my arms wide. The sun had just cleared the horizon, and the light felt like a promise. I walked back inside, barefoot on the warm wood floor. Jenny was still asleep, curled exactly as I’d left her. I knelt beside the bed and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. She murmured something, not a word, just a sound of contentment. And I thought: *We don’t need the world.* We are the world.

left her. I smiled, watching her peaceful expression, and sat down beside her on the bed. My hand brushed against hers, and I wove my fingers through hers, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The warmth of her skin seeped into mine, and I closed my eyes, letting the quiet of the moment wash over me. I remembered the first time we'd walked this beach together, hand in hand, and the way the sunlight had danced in the waves. We'd talked about leaving it all behind, about creating a life free from the noise and distractions of the world. And now, here we were, living that life. As I sat there, holding Jenny's hand, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. This was my news, my world – the island, the sea, the sky, and the quiet moments we shared together. I didn't need anything else. I didn't want to wake her, so I simply sat there, holding her hand, and letting the warmth of the sun and the gentle rise and fall of her chest lull me into a sense of calm. The world outside could wait. This moment was all that mattered.